In the Right Spirit
by Darthishtar
Summary: All of the Cullens have their own ideas of heaven and hell, but what happens when two Mormon missionaries come to call? All in good fun but meant to be humorous. And before you think I'm not qualified to write this, I was a Mormon missionary in SoCal.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi there. I am a Mormon who has been a missionary and I have seen a lot of strange things while out there spreading the good word of God. This is an entirely fictional depiction of what might happen in a certain situation, but all of the doctrine in here is true. This is really how missionaries are on occasion. The missionaries in Forks would be from the Washington Tacoma Mission and there were Elders Baldwin and Hoffman in that mission in the year 2003. Basically they are fictional characters based on, I'm sure, very nice guys. Enough disclaimer. On with the show!**

**Oh** **and if you're lost on vocab, here are a few translations:**

**Trainer: Senior missionary who is in charge of helping a new missionary adjust to the life. **

**Greenie: Missionary who has just left the Missionary Training Center and has been a full-time missionary for six weeks or less.**

**Pass-along card: Just what it sounds like. These are spiffy little advertisements on card-stock that you can be given to get a video or a free book or to find the LDS church's website.**

"Next one's yours, Elder."

They were the words I'd been dreading all morning. Elder Hoffman was great at this sort of thing—I don't think he had a timid day in his life—but what kind of trainer makes their greenie do door contacts on the first day? I was supposed to be _learning_ how to be a missionary right now and I couldn't do it if I was stuttering my way through a contact. If he'd just hold off for a day or so...

But no, he was already climbing up the front steps. He stood there like _I _was holding him up and waited for me to scramble into position. I had just straightened my tie and checked my nametag when he knocked on the door.

"Breathe, Elder," he said quietly. "Serial killers don't usually live in houses this nice."

Before I could tell him that didn't make me feel any better, the door cracked open and a girl who was probably half my height and weight grinned broadly.

"Hello," she said politely. "Are you lost?"

_Maybe_.

"Hello, Miss," I said stiffly. "Are your parents here?"

_Brilliant, Baldwin. She looks old enough to be your girlfriend. Don't treat her like a kid._

"Carlisle's still at work," she replied, "but Esme's here. Come in."

Elder Hoffman clapped me on the back as if I had just made a winning touchdown. It was either a way of congratulating me on getting through the first door I knocked or a way of shoving me through so I didn't chicken out. Either way, I found myself standing in the spotless living room with my muddy dress shoes and waiting for Esme to come meet us.

"She'll be down in a minute," the girl with the crazy black hair announced. "I'm Alice."

"I'm Elder Baldwin and this is Elder Hoffman," I managed to say.

"Nice to meet you," Alice said, shaking my hand; hers was just as cold as mine, but mine was ten times more clammy.

_Okay, Elder, build a relationship of trust. Find some common ground._

Before I can say anything, Elder Hoffman turned to look at the grand piano. "Who's the musician?"

"My brother Edward," she sighed. "I'm rotten, but he might play for you if you're really nice."

"We'll try our best," Elder Hoffman laughed. "Is he here?"

She glanced pointedly at the ceiling for some reason. "Yes, he is," she confirmed. "Where are you guys from?"

"I'm from Idaho," I said.

"I grew up in Maine," Elder Hoffman added.

"Great," she burbled. "We lived in Augusta for a while. Great camping there."

"There is," he agreed. "Do you like camping much?"

"We go almost every weekend," she said. "Sometimes I think Edward and Jasper would live in a tent if we let them."

So, the family was made up of Jasper, Edward, Alice, Esme and Carlisle. This could be a great family for the ward around here. I was already wondering if Edward and Jasper could be fellowshipped by some of the more enthusiastic Boy Scouts. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but this was the first normal family we'd talked to today.

A few moments later, an older woman came down their stairs, followed by a young man who had the same pale skin and dark eyes as Alice. He looked us over suspiciously as his mother approached. From the look on his face, we'd interrupted something very important, like brooding in the mirror.

"I'm Esme Cullen," the mother said said warmly. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, Mrs. Cullen. I'm Elder Baldwin and this is Elder Hoffman. We're missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and we're in your neighborhood sharing a message about God's plan for us. Do you have a few minutes so we could share a message with you?"

It had come out in a rush and Esme looked taken aback for just a moment. Edward glanced at Alice and she stifled a giggle.

"I think so," she said. "We're all Christians in this house."

_Great. Some common ground to build off of._

"Wonderful," I said. "Can we sit down?"

They let us have the uncomfortable chairs—probably Edward's idea—and took the couch along the bay window. I glanced at Elder Hoffman, hoping he'd take pity on me and get things started, but he just nodded encouragingly.

"Have you..."

Of course, my voice cracked on the second word. This could only get better, I hoped.

"Have you heard anything about our church?"

"You're the Mormons, right?" Alice piped up. "I've seen some of you around."

That wasn't surprising. The ward had enough teenagers and she probably had classes with a few of them.

"That's one of the common names for our church," I agreed. "What have you heard?"

"I know that you seem to place a lot of importance on families," Esme added. "And we followed the Salt Lake City Olympics, so we heard quite a bit about your culture."

I tried not to be too discouraged by the fact that most of her information came from newspapers and ESPN. It was better than a lot of people we'd talked to already.

"Great," I said enthusiastically. "You're right that we do think that families are very important. In fact, the family is a central part of God's plan for us. God is all-knowing and all-powerful, but he's also our Father in Heaven. We believe that as human beings, all of us were created as spirit brothers and sisters in his own im..."

The front door slammed open and two more teenagers burst into the house, both laughing easily. The girl, a stunning blonde nearly as tall as I am, moved into the living room and took me down a few notches with a single glance. She didn't even talk to us, just turned to Alice.

"We're heading north for some outdoor recreation in ten minutes," she said. "Are you coming?"

"We'll join you tonight," Esme said. "We have guests, Rosalie."

"So I see," the other, a dark-haired man who could have broken me in half with his bare hands, said. "I'm Emmett."

"He's my boyfriend," the one named Rosalie said sharply. "He lives with me."

Esme glanced up quickly as if she were restraining herself from rolling her eyes at the two of them. I could feel my ears getting red and if she was trying to bait me, it was working.

I made a note to myself to not teach the repentance and law of chastity principles for a while yet. No need to rush into things.

"I'm Elder Hoffman," my companion finally said. "And this is Elder Baldwin. We're missionaries from the Mormon Church. Would you like to join us for a short message about God's plan for us?"

"Maybe later," Rosalie said dismissively. "We have to get packed."

They were out of the room and, from the sound of it, halfway up the stairs before they turned around. By that time, Elder Hoffman had taken pity on me and was getting Esme to read a verse in Genesis. I should have been paying attention, but I could still hear their conversation.

"Behave yourself, Rose. That one looks like he's about to have a stroke."

"Just a little fun," she said airily. "I'll be up in a minute, all right?"

"No," he growled. "I want to watch."

I wasn't a psychic or anything, but I could see trouble coming five stairs away. Edward seemed to be picking up on it and he even looked annoyed when his siblings came back.

"Sorry to interrupt," Rosalie trilled. "Do you mind if we join you after all?"

"Not at all," Elder Hoffman said.

"Oh, good," she said. "I have some questions for you."

"Rosalie," Esme said.

She had the same kind of edge in her voice that I heard every time my sister chastised my four-year-old nephew for his mischievous streak.

"At least wait until the end of their message," she requested. "It's impolite to interrupt."

"Not at all," I said. "If you have any questions, we'd be happy to answer them for you."

Edward and Esme exchanged a Look, but no one stopped her. Alice looked even more amused than before, but she didn't laugh this time.

"All right," Rosalie said, obviously comfortable with being in the spotlight. "I heard that you guys don't drink beer or wine, right?"

"That's right," I blurted. "We believe in living the Word of Wisdom, which says that we should not drink any alcohol, non-herbal tea or coffee."

"No problems there," she replied, nodding. "So nothing that's bad for the body, right?"

If all her questions were going to be like this, I might just survive this. Somehow, I didn't think it was going to be that easy.

"Right."

"We don't drink any of that stuff anyway," she continued, "but what's your rule on drinking blood?"

I blinked.

"You mean like having a medium rare steak?" I asked stupidly.

"No, like drinking blood the way you might drink a Dr. Pepper," she corrected. "Or how someone else might have a six pack of Bud Lite. Let's call it social drinking."

I looked desperately at Elder Hoffman, but he looked just as lost as I was.

"Well, it says that we're supposed to use meat sparingly and avoid hot drinks," I said weakly. "I guess drinking animal blood counts for both."

"And human blood?"

"Rosalie," Edward said warningly.

"No, it's just curiosity," she insisted. "I mean, I get the urge sometimes. I want to know if I'm being unrighteous or anything if I do that."

"Let's get back to you on that," Elder Hoffman said urgently. "Do you have any other questions before we get back to our message?"

"And no killing allowed, right?" Rosalie added.

"Right," Elder Hoffman said.

"Good," she responded. "We haven't had problems with that in, oh, sixty or so years. We're vegetarians now."

I couldn't tell if she was being serious or trying to see how far she could push us. I wasn't sure I liked either option.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Yeah," Emmett interrupted. "All churches talk about life after death. Do you believe in it?"

"We do," I said, grateful for his intervention. "We believe that family ties can continue on forever, even after death. God's plan allows for all of us to be resurrected so we can live with him and our families for all time."

"Great," Emmett said. "So, how does that work if you're undead?"

Up until now, I hadn't seen Elder Hoffman speechless, but right now, he looked like a fish out of water. I probably wasn't too much better.

"I'll leave you with that thought," Rosalie gloated; turning to the others, she gestured expansively. "We're leaving in ten if you want to ride with us."

She and Emmett raced up the stairs, leaving everyone else looking vaguely uncomfortable. After a long moment, Esme stood.

"I'm sorry, Elders," she said. "I'm not going to excuse what they said, but I think that this is perhaps not the best time to entertain you."

That was one word for it.

"Do you have some literature you could leave with us?" she invited.

I dug into my pocket and found a pass-along card. Elder Hoffman grabbed it and wrote down our number and the meeting times on the back before passing it to me.

"This is a card about a free video that talks about what we were sharing with you," I said. "It's called 'Together Forever' and it's all about God's plan for families in this life and the life to come."

"It sounds wonderful," she said politely, shaking my hand after she pocketed the card. "We'll give you a call if we have any further interest."

"Thank you for your time," I said quickly.

Three handshakes later, we were back on the porch and I could finally breathe normally. Elder Hoffman clapped me on the back again and this time, I knew he was trying to make me believe that had gone well.

"We got to share some of the message with a nice family and you did a great job in there," he said. "You built on common ground and you answered their questions with respect."

"Yeah," I muttered as we retrieved our bikes. "I guess it could have been worse."

He shrugged. "It's something to write home about," he mused. "I always have a crazy story or two about the people we meet. Some people will tell you anything just to get you out of their living room."

From the upstairs window, I could hear Esme's raised voice. "I swear, Rosalie Lillian Hale, this is the closest I have come to grounding you in the last thirty years. I know you were not fond of them, but I will stand for no disrespect in my house..."

"It'll be easier at the next house," Elder Hoffman promised. "You'll see."

I climbed on my bike and strapped on the helmet before looking at that gorgeous house one more time. "You know," I groused, "they could have just said they weren't interested..."


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm pretty sure this is something we could do online," Rosalie groused. "Can't we just Google the Mormons and see what we find?"

I scowled at the card. "I already tried that. You get 5,350,000 hits and when you _do_ find something useful, you have to browse every link on the site just to find what you could get with one simple phone call. Besides, Esme was insulted and you know how Carlisle gets when that happens."

It was better to suffer a few minutes of religious talk to make sure this ended here. Esme had all but ordered us to make amends _somehow_ and it was either this or bringing her a stag as a peace offering.

"But this is _ridiculous,_" she insisted. "If they're anything like other telemarketers, they'll get us on some list and then we'll never hear the end of it. We'll have to move to Siberia where they have no missionaries and no Chanel lipliner for fifteen hundred miles."

Of course. I'm worried about the wrath of Carlisle and she's worried that she'll run out of No. 8 Brilliant. That's my Rose.

"They're not telemarketers."

"They're odd people who knock on our doors and live in Utah," she pointed out. "Of _course_ they're telemarketers."

She sometimes got the oddest ideas. Then again, she likes _elk._

"I'm calling," I said obstinately. "You can get in on this if you want."

Before she could protest, I dialed the 800 number and put it on speaker phone. A moment later, an unnaturally cheerful voice came on the line.

"Thank you for calling the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints," she chirped. "I'm Sister Lambert. How are you doing this evening?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes and twirled her hair like a cheerleader. I struggled to contain a laugh and cleared my throat.

"Hi, Sister Lambert," I said. "My family was talking to your missionaries a few days ago and they gave us a card for a video?"

"Great! How did you like what the missionaries told you?"

"It was _special_," Rosalie interrupted, trying to nip this in the bud. "The video's called 'Together Forever' and we'd like it."

Sister Lambert sighed ecstatically. I had to wonder if she'd been inhaling too much Jell-O powder or if she was always like this.

"Oh, that's one of my favorites," she gushed. "It's a wonderful film about how families can really overcome life's challenges by following God's plan for them. I know that in my own life..."

Rosalie hit the mute button. "Emmett," she hissed. "If she doesn't wrap this up soon, you're staying on the couch tonight!"

"Maybe if she gets this off her chest, you won't have to move to Siberia," I hissed back before unmuting the nice lady on too much Valium. "That sounds great. Is this where we'd order it?"

"It is," she confirmed. "Can I have your address, please?"

I rattled it off while Rosalie pouted. At least this seemed to be getting to the end of things.

"Great," Sister Lambert said for about the fifth time in a minute. "I know that this video can help you and your wife find greater peace in this life and can improve your understanding of the importance of families in God's plan for us. Now, while we have you on the phone, would you like missionaries from our church contact you?"

"No, no, that's fine," I said to appease Rosalie. "We have the missionaries' number if we're interested."

"Well, that's great," Sister Lambert enthused. "I hope you really enjoy the video and that it can help you. I remember once when..."

"Wait," Rosalie interrupted suddenly.

I turned to stare at her. It wasn't like her to get interested in much of anything on the religious side of things. Luckily, she had a vaguely wicked look in her eyes. This might actually be fun.

"If we gave you the name and address of some family friends of ours, could you send missionaries _there_?"

"We certainly could," the woman replied. "How wonderful that you're thinking of others."

"Yeah," Rosalie deadpanned. "Let me get you their information..."

A few moments later, we'd finally gotten Sister Lambert off the phone and I followed Rosalie down the stairs. She was finally in a good mood, humming to herself and smirking. If she didn't knock it off soon, this could take a turn for the worse.

Esme was sitting in the living room, reading _David Copperfield_ for about the fiftieth time, but her expression was anything but casual. As soon as we strolled into the room, she looked up sharply and closed her book.

"I heard you were on the phone," she said pointedly.

"Yes," I said before Rosalie could gloat. "We decided to call the number on that card and ask for the video. The lady on the phone was very enthusiastic about it."

Rosalie choked back a laugh, but Esme looked approving of our decision to repent for now. "Good," she said. "Did they say anything else?"

"They offered the missionaries again," Rosalie responded. "We politely declined."

"I should think so," Esme sniffed. "After the way you treated those young men, I have half a mind to rat you out to Carlisle."

"Not necessary," Rosalie said. "We were _very nice_ to the dippy lady on the phone."

Esme narrowed her eyes, waiting for us to give some indication that we had called the lady dippy within her earshot or something worse.

"But you were civil to her?" she prompted.

"Oh, yes," I confirmed. "We even gave her a recommendation of someone else to visit."

Her jaw dropped and she looked even more horrified than when we had brought up our vampiristic tendencies with Baldwin. "You didn't," she breathed.

"We did," Rosalie exulted.

"You sent the Mormons to _Volterra?_" she snapped.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

I couldn't keep myself from laughing now. That would have been a more amusing thing to do, but we'd had a much better idea.

"They've got missionaries in Alaska," Rosalie explained. "What the Mormons would think of succubi, I'd just _love_ to know."


	3. Chapter 3

We don't often get mail. After three hundred years of experience with couriers of one kind or another, I have discovered or invented every method of avoiding junk mail known to mortal man. Some of the pizza places will still send out monthly mailings, just because we have never offered them their custom, but other than that, the instances are few and far between.

With the advent of the internet, it became even more unnecessary to open the mailbox. Esme and I went through a "bout of sentimentalism" in which we hand-wrote letters to each other after having read a book on Abigail and John Adams.

Still, I check the mailbox every day to ensure that I don't miss an invitation to a benefit or a package. Today was no exception, but wedged in atop one misdirected letter and two advertisements for a new body shop was a rectangular box addressed to Rosalie.

I caught her scent as soon as I entered the house, but Esme crossed my path first.

"Anything interesting in the mail?" she asked after the customary kiss.

"I'm not sure," I said with a smile. "Can you explain why the Mormon church is sending my daughter mail?"

It was the first time in at least six weeks that I had seen Esme look sheepish and she glanced sharply up the stairs. I wasn't sure if she was accusing someone or warning Edward that the proverbial cat was out of the bag.

"I can," she confirmed, "but it is a long story."

"I've got time," I said. "First, let's see to it that Rosalie receives her mail."

The culprit flounced down the stairs a few seconds later. "It came," she muttered as soon as she saw the box.

She didn't sound particularly happy about it. "Yes," I informed her, handing it over. "_It_ came. Now what is _it_?"

"The missionaries decided to call on us," Esme said reprovingly. "I saw no harming in letting them in for a few minutes and they looked exhausted."

"They were complete idiots," Rosalie added unhelpfully. "They didn't have a clue how to answer our questions."

From the look on Esme's face, I could only imagine what sorts of questions Rosalie had expected the Elders to answer. This might explain the slightly nervous tension that I thought I'd imagined a week ago; Edward had refused to explain it, but he hadn't denied its presence.

"I had to show them out in order to do damage control," Esme added. "Not wanting to be rude, I asked if they had any materials they could leave with us. They offered a card for a free video and as part of Rosalie and Emmett's punishment, I suggested that they request it. _That_ is one of the results."

Before I could ask about the other results or the remainder of their punishment, the house phone rang. We waited for it to go to the answering machine, since I was not going to let Rosalie off the hook just yet.

"Hello, Cullens," Tanya purred into the receiver. "It's polar bear season in Alaska and we haven't seen you in _ages._ Won't you call and let us know when you'll be taking advantage of our hospitality? We all miss you and the humans around here are so _dull_...

"Oh, before I forget, Rosalie, some friends of yours came by. We're not much for religion, but they were good for an afternoon's entertainment. Thanks for thinking of us, but they sent _girls_. Next time, could you at least find some young, nubile, manly Jehovah's Witnesses or something? Thanks. Hope you're doing well and _call_ us. Goodbye."

The recording clicked off and I attempted to speak, but my jaw was still hanging open. Esme was looking appropriately smug that I was not taking this lightly.

"You sent the missionaries to _Tanya's?_" I demanded.

"I thought it would be a good learning experience for them," she said unblushingly. "It could have been worse."

I wasn't ready to contemplate _how_ it could have been worse, but I knew Tanya's clan well. It wouldn't take much imagination once I thought about it.

"You're not mad, are you?" Rosalie pouted.

"Mad isn't the word for it," I said. "Astonished..."

"Mortified," Esme suggested. "What _possessed_ you to dishonor those missionaries in the first place is far beyond me."

Rosalie tilted her chin defiantly. "It's Emmett's fault, too," she pointed out. "He was the one who wanted to know about the afterlife of the undead."

I had the feeling that, if I were still human, I would be getting a tension at this moment. Instead, I felt simply exasperated.

"All right," I said sternly. "I am not angry that you drove off the missionaries. I have done that myself."

"Really," Esme said.

"Yes," I said. "In 1837, I spent a journey to England next door to Orson Hyde and Heber C. Kimball. They tried for the entire time to convert me, but never succeeded. I treated them civilly, however.

"And that," I concluded, "is the difference between my story and yours. You treated them with disrespect, which embarrassed your mother. When expected to make amends, you made things worse. If it would do any good, I would send you to your room."

"What are you going to do instead?" she challenged, though her eyes betrayed a hint of anxiety.

Esme folded her arms over her chest. It had been about twenty-five years since there had been a need for disciplinary action in this household and I wasn't about to foul it up.

"We're going hunting this weekend," I reminded them both. "I will be staying with both you and Emmett for the duration of the trip."

Esme's eyebrow quirked upward in disapproval and Rosalie smirked at only being forced to endure a _chaperone._ Fortunately, I wasn't done yet.

"You and Emmett will be sitting calmly and working out the terms of your apology to your mother and the Denali coven," I explained. "In the meantime, the others will hunt down scrawny rabbits and bring them _to_ you."

Rosalie's expression hardened. I was taking all of the fun out of a night out and making her eat the vampire equivalent of Ramen. It was tantamount to sending her to her room without supper.

"Is that satisfactory?" I asked Esme, turning to her to find that her eyebrow had lowered again.

"For now," she agreed.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Can I go, now?"

"Absolutely not," I countered. "Esme, get the others and bring them to the living room."

"Alice and Jasper were about to leave," she pointed out. "Will this take long?"

"No," I said with a smile. "If I remember this video correctly, it should take about fifteen minutes for us to all watch it. It'll be over before you know it."


End file.
